Falling with Style
by Avengers-x-Ace-Reader
Summary: Sam Wilson x Reader. The latest training exercise involves jumping from a great height to learn how to work with Sam and the wings. Unfortunately, the Reader is pretty bad at falling. But Sam isn't one to give up on anyone he cares about. Fluff, One-shot.


You weren't sure if your face was frozen from fear or the cold, and your toes curled in your shoes as you looked down sixty feet to the ground. The ticking of the timer was growing faster as it neared zero, and you gulped a lungful of the cold air right before it rang and you leapt off the beam of the rig.

"Arms up!" Sam's voice hollered over the Comm, but you uncurled too late and he missed your hands by inches.

The enormous safety cushion enveloped you a moment later, and you stayed flat on your back even after it settled. You were grateful that at least you hadn't jarred anything that time.

When the sunlight vanished you cracked one eye open to look up at your team leader Steve, who was standing over you with a slight frown.

"Get up, (Name)." He said with a sigh, holding out a hand. "Let's call it a day."

You didn't meet his eye as you pulled yourself up and straightened your clothes. All the Avengers were going through training manoeuvres with Sam to learn the best way to fall and how to adjust so that the Falcon could execute a rescue with the least danger to all parties involved. Steve and Natasha had demonstrated the three main ways effortlessly, and the rest of the team caught on to it on their second try. The only exceptions were Wanda and yourself. Wanda had needed five tries. You had just failed your fifteenth.

Heights and falling were already on your list of things you hated, so having to jump off the rig set up at the facility was bad enough without having to do it fifteen times. It was even worse knowing you would probably have to do it again.

As soon as Steve dismissed the team you took off for your room, waving off the well-meaning invitations from the twins and Natasha to join them in the rec room after dinner. All you wanted at that point was to go to bed and sleep off your mortification at your inability to fall like anything other than a human two by four.

.~.

A quiet knocking at your door woke you, and you rolled over to check the time on your phone. Today was supposed to be a rest day, so if someone was at your door at six in the morning it probably meant something had happened.

You yanked a housecoat on over your pyjamas and opened the door a crack, and had a steaming cup of coffee held under your nose. Sam was on the other side of the door, smiling as he offered you the coffee and a paper bag that smelled like it contained a fresh muffin.

"I brought you breakfast. Meet me outside the east entrance in ten?"

"How about twenty?" You pleaded, taking the coffee and bag that did indeed contain a chocolate muffin. "I just woke up."

"Twenty." Sam agreed, and left you to start your morning routine.

Freshly showered and awake, you crept out the east entrance wrapped up in a cardigan and jogged over to Sam.

"Thanks for breakfast." You said, skidding a little on the damp grass. "What's up?"

"Well you, in a minute." Sam replied, and you finally noticed that he was wearing his flight suit.

Sam put his arm around your shoulder and squeezed you comfortingly when your face fell, and you turned to face him for a proper hug.

"Just take it easy." Sam said, rubbing your back. "We'll start small and have you falling like a pro in no time. Even if it takes all day."

"You don't mind?"

"I don't mind."

After setting the rig so that it was barely ten feet off the ground, Sam stood underneath and prompted you to jump into his arms. As ridiculous as you felt, it did make you more comfortable after a few tries. Sam set the rig to thirty feet after a while, and remained on the ground to just call out tips on how to change position as you fell.

It was maybe nine in the morning when the rig was set back to its original height of sixty feet, and the timer was once again counting down. You were still scared, but there was a certain anticipation as well and you jumped at the ring of the timer almost calmly.

"Curl!" Sam yelled and you brought your knees toward your chest like a loose cannonball dive, keeping yourself relaxed.

He caught you easily, and the change from falling to soaring was so exhilarating that you gave a whoop of pure glee. Sam did a victory lap around the roof of the facility with a pleased whoop of his own, and brought you down safely onto the ground with a grin.

Your nerves were still thrumming with adrenaline, and you gave Sam a huge kiss on the cheek without thinking. Or you meant to, except the aforementioned adrenaline made your aim a bit off and you got his goggles rather than his cheek.

You covered your face with your hands with a groan as Sam set you down, and almost wished you were back on top of the rig. When he didn't say anything you peeked between your fingers at him, and were relieved to see that he was grinning.

"Sorry." You mumbled, hands still over your face.

"That's okay." Sam replied, pushing his goggles up and winking at you. "I guess we'll just have to practice that too."


End file.
